


Educating Ron

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Sex Toys, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:45:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legs, arms, bodies, a tangled mess of limbs until he’s not quite sure where he stops and she begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Educating Ron

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written August 2005

There is something unbelievably sexy and very sinful about watching one’s girlfriend pleasure herself. Especially when she has no idea you’re watching. 

This is a truth that Ron Weasley just now realizes as he stands in the doorway of the bedroom he shares with Hermione and watches her touch herself. 

He knows he should make some sort of noise to let her know he’s there. Knowing Hermione, there will be blushing, annoyance at him for catching her, and then immediate covering of the gorgeous body that is currently on display. The thing is, he’s never seen her do this before, and he doesn‘t want her to stop. He’s seen her beneath him, above him, against him, but never by herself. He’s asked, but she always says no, usually accompanied by a stern look and red cheeks. Hermione’s quite adventurous in the bedroom and likes sex a lot, but she gets shy about some things and he’s not about to pressure her. 

It’s one of the many things he’s learned We Do Not Talk About. There are more than a dozen topics on that list. He knows not to ask her what a Tampon is because she goes into some confusing lecture about being a woman and how men deserve to suffer every time he mentions his curiosity while holding the oddly shaped cotton. He just wants to know what it’s for without a lecture about bastard men and gross things he doesn‘t want to think about that women go through. So he‘s learned Not to Ask. 

He knows not to tell her that her legs feel nice and that he rather likes the feeling of the stubs of hair because it’s more texture than the smooth skin he‘s used to. That one once earned him a slap on his arm that hurt pretty bad considering she wasn’t that strong. She’d locked herself in the loo for over an hour before finally coming out and refusing to let him shag her even when he gave her the puppy dog eyes and apologized for whatever it was he‘d done. 

There are many more things on that list in his head. He learns new ones every so often and it’s really hard keeping track, but she’s worth it. Most importantly, though, he has learned not to ask her to show him what she does to herself even if he’s always wanted to see. He knows what it looks like when he wanks, but girls are different. With him, he spits on his palm and starts to stroke, usually thinks about Hermione, and then he comes. It’s hot and sticky and over in ten minutes, if not sooner. 

Girls do things weird, though, so he knows she’s not likely to spit on her palm and rub for a few minutes and then come. Girls don’t work that way. There’s usually kissing involved, a bit of licking, fingers just so and thumb right there. They’d have to have a dozen hands to touch everything so it’s never been something he can picture beyond wicked thoughts that can’t possibly be right. 

As he looks at her now, he finds out he was definitely wrong. It’s even better than what he imagined. He feels a bit silly to be twenty-three and to just now watch the woman he loves wank. He could have bought one of those Muggle movies Seamus used to talk about, but he didn’t want to see some prawn movie with a strange bird doing those sorts of things. Hermione is the only one he wants to see naked and having sex. Just like she is right now. With herself. God, he’s hard as a rock and he hasn’t even been watching long. 

Of course, it _has_ been more than a month since they’ve really had sex. Since he started his rotation with the burn unit at St. Mungos, his apprenticeship has taken up the majority of his time. He’s been home sleeping while she’s at work and then he’s at work when she’s home. It has been tough on them. He knows it and she knows it. They fight more lately when they are together; stupid petty bickering over the most ridiculous things. He’s tired from double shifts and burns hit a little too close to home: he tends to think about Percy’s own horrible burn injuries from the War half the time. He doesn’t mean to take it out on Hermione, but he gets home and she starts nagging about this or that and he snaps. 

He hates making her cry. She refuses to shed tears, but he can see them and they make him feel like an arse. She supports him and he repays her by yelling. When everyone else, including his own family, told him they thought his decision to become a Mediwizard was admirable but perhaps he should consider working at the Ministry, Hermione and Harry were the only ones who had faith he could do it. She went out and bought him a book on Practical Wizarding Healing and inscribed it with words that still made him feel confident even at his worst moments when he considered chucking it all and working in an office. 

He looks at her lying on their bed touching herself and feels rather ashamed for spying on her. He plans to marry her one day. When he’s finished with his apprenticeship, which requires six years of rotations , training and testing, and he’s only half-finished, or when she finds a cure in her research to aid those suffering from the prolonged effects of Cruciatus, they’ll be married. It’s what they decided one lazy evening before life got in the way. Sometimes he wonders if they’ll be ready when one of those things happens. Sometimes he wonders if maybe they shouldn’t just elope because he wants her to be his wife without waiting years. 

Ron hears her moan his name and slowly smiles. He’s glad she thinks about him when she’s touching herself. Her hands are squeezing her breasts and there’s a slim cylinder in her right hand that makes a low buzzing sound as she moves it over her nipple. It’s bright pink, which is a bit shocking because she doesn’t like pink. He recognizes that toy. He might not be too knowledgeable about some of the devices people use in sex, but he did manage to sneak looks at the magazines Charlie left the twins years ago. 

It’s a vibrationer. He thinks. He saw adverts for them in the back of the magazines and figured out women must use them for wanking. He’s still a bit curious _how_ they’re used, though he has a pretty good idea judging by it’s size and how it looks a bit like a cock. He thinks it looks rather hard and wonders how they can enjoy something plastic and unyielding pushed inside them even if it did make a soothing sort of buzzing noise.

His lethargy from another double shift fades as he watches her play. Her hand drifts lower and the vibrationer seems to get louder. She moves her legs up, her feet on the bed, spread so far apart he can see how wet she is and the pink skin that he knows by memory. He watches her rub the toy over her cunt, hears her soft whimper as she pushes it inside, and his hand moves into his trousers to stroke his cock as he listens and looks.

She lets the toy go and it begins to move in and out of her at an angle he knows isn’t touching where she needs. If he was fucking her like that, she’d grumble and tell him to shift until he got the right angle. He’s a bit annoyed she doesn’t seem to care if the toy doesn’t hit that spot. When he sees her hips begin to move, he licks his lips. He can now smell her from the doorway. Sex and sweat, cinnamon and jasmine. He lets his cock go and slowly enters the room. 

Her eyes are closed and she doesn’t realize he’s there, which makes his cock throb even more. He quietly opens his top bureau drawer and removes a bottle of lotion he bought months ago on a whim. He’d eventually decided to use it on their anniversary, to surprise her, but he’d had to work a twenty hour shift and hadn’t been home in time to celebrate so there hadn’t been an opportunity in the weeks since for him to try it out. It seems like now is as good a time as any.

He sits at the end of the bed, and the mattress shifts. Her eyes fly open and she gasps. He smiles as she turns bright red and alternates between gaping and glaring at him.

“Ron, what are you doing here?” she demands finally as she tries to cover herself.

“I live here,” he tells her matter-of-factly, doing his best to ignore the fact that her legs are still spread and the toy is still moving in and out and making a soft slopping sound each time it thrusts into her wet cunt. She practically growls at his cheeky grin and he decides she is absolutely adorable when she’s flustered. 

“This isn’t, I mean. Oh, just close your eyes so I can get dressed.” Her hands move between her legs to remove the toy, and he can tell she’s definitely embarrassed.

He shakes his head. “No, I won’t close my eyes, Hermione. You look gorgeous, baby. Why wouldn’t I want to watch you?”

“Stop it,” she mutters as her fingers grip the toy and she pulls it out with a sloppy plop. When she looks at him again, her eyes are narrowed and her gaze is accusing. “How long did you watch me, you perverted prat?”

“What is that thing?” he asks in a blatant avoidance of her question. Before she can hide it, he reaches out and grabs it. It’s wet and warm from where it’s been and he groans softly at the feeling beneath his palm. It is still moving and he studies it curiously. “Is it Muggle or Wizarding?”

“Ronald, you give that back to me right this instant!”

“Do you know how hard I get when you say my name like that, Hermione?” he asks curiously as his gaze lazily moves over her nude body. “I think you do. I’ve told you often enough, after all. You know it gets me so fucking aroused that I can barely control myself from thrusting right into you.”

“Language,” she scolds even as her body shudders slightly. 

“You like my language,” he reminds her as he brings the toy closer. He lets his tongue slide over it and tastes her and plastic. Thankfully, her taste is stronger so he licks again. “Why does it keep moving like this?”

“It’s turned on,” she mutters as she seems to turn even more red if that’s possible.

“It’s not the only thing,” he says with a playful leer as she straightens her legs out and seems to still be trying to cover herself with her hands. “Hermione, baby, I’ve already seen you naked more times than I can count. Why are you trying to cover up? I prefer seeing you like this.”

“You would,” she says almost affectionately before her gaze looks at the toy and she’s once again glaring. “Ron, turn that off and put it away!”

He studies her a moment. Finally, he shakes his head. “Nope. I’m curious and a certain smart woman once told me that I should always do research when I find something that interests me because learning is power.”

“I said knowledge is power,” she says dryly as she starts to sit up.

“None of that,” he tsks before he removes his wand and smiles. “ _Constricto_.”

Her arms are pulled above her head and he watches as the magic binds them in place. He waits, knowing it won’t be long.

“You let me go right now, Ronald Weasley!”

“You’re gorgeous when you’re annoyed, baby,” he tells her sincerely. He puts the buzzing vibrationer on the bed and slowly moves his fingers over her calf. “Why are you embarrassed about me seeing you wanking? You’ve seen me wank before.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” she denies. “I just don’t feel comfortable doing that for an audience.”

“I’m your boyfriend, Hermione, not an audience. We’re supposed to share those intimate moments and shite, aren’t we?” he asks. “It’s why we’re an us. So you can see me puke when I’m sick and I can see you wank when you’re horny and all those moments in between.”

“Why does it seem like you get the better end of the arrangement?” She arches a brow and still somehow manages to retain control despite being bound. He loves that about her, he decides as he moves his hand higher. “You do realize that I will be repaying you for this, don’t you?”

“I was hoping.” He grins and winks before he moves his hand to pick up the lotion. The bottle is small and round, the lotion smells like cherry, and he’s not exactly sure what it does, but he figures it might be fun to experiment. He looks at her and sighs. “I’m sorry I was working during our anniversary.”

“I told you that it was okay,” she reassures him even as her gaze lowers momentarily. She’s lying. 

There are very few things in this world he really knows, but Hermione Granger happens to be at the top of his list. He doesn’t understand her half the time, finds her frustrating and infuriating quite often, but he knows her better than he knows any one else in the world. When she lies, she bites her lip and never quite meets your eyes. Unless she’s doing it deliberately and then she can stare right at you and convince you the sky is green and you might very well believe her. 

“’t wasn’t fine,” he mumbles. “Should have been here. Four years of you tolerating me is worth celebrating.”

“Your studies are far more important, Ron. You’re doing so well and I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you, Hermione.“ He smiles tenderly as he looks up at her. She seems to have forgotten that she’s bound to the bed naked with a buzzing toy beside her, which is really quite lucky since he doesn‘t plan to release her any time soon. He wants to make her scream his name, he decides, and he shows her the lotion. “I got this, for our anniversary, to try out. It’s Wizarding, but I’m not sure what it does exactly. Says it’s supposed to stimulate and arouse, which sounds good to me.”

He dips his finger into the lotion and then wipes it across her nipple. His lips purse and he blows on it gently. She gasps and her body arches. 

“Feel good, baby?” he asks as traces a pattern around her other nipple. 

“It’s warm,” she stammers. “Feels like you’re licking me. God, Ron. What is that?”

“Nuh uh,” he teases as he leans down to lick. Tastes like cherry, warm on his tongue, and he sucks her nipple before rubbing his unshaven jaw across her collarbone. “You wouldn’t tell me about your vibrationer so I don’t have to tell you about my toy.”

“It’s a vibrator,” she corrects breathlessly. Her arms pull against the magic binding her and he chuckles at her soft curse at not being able to touch him. 

“Is it Muggle?”

“Yes,” she reluctantly admits. He feels like an arse for making her talk about it when it’s obvious she doesn’t want to but he’s curious and fascinated so she’ll hopefully forgive him. 

“It was moving by itself though,” he says thoughtfully. “You charmed it?”

“God, this is embarrassing,” she mutters as she looks at the ceiling before focusing on his face. “Yes, I charmed it. It, uh, moves by itself so my hands can be free. You know I tend to, _you know_ , when my breasts are touched while you‘re inside me.”

“Come,” he tells her gently. “You tend to come when I suck your tits while I’m fucking you.”

“There are times I hate you,” she says weakly.

“Nah, you don’t. You just hate to admit that it makes you wet when I talk like that.” He grins knowingly before he licks his way down her stomach. She shudders as the lotion is spread over her body and he likes the sounds she’s making. 

“Will you release my hands so I can touch you?”

“Not yet,” he decides as he pulls his shirt over his head. He removes his trousers and pants as well, tosses them on the floor in a messy pile that probably has her gritting her teeth and itching to hang them up even as she’s writhing with arousal and pleasure. Ron settles between her legs and smiles up at her. “So this toy, it feels good? How can you enjoy it when it feels so hard?”

“I think that’s the point,” she tells him with a slight smirk that causes him to lean down and take a long lick from her arse to clit. 

“Cheeky brat,” he scolds playfully before nibbling her clit. He rests his chin on her lower belly and frowns. “I mean, it feels hard and not in the way I’d think felt good. Even when I’m stiff, my cock is, uh, not like that. Plus the angle was all wrong. It was thrusting but not rubbing the right places. That gets you off? Just having it inside even without rubbing your clit?”

“I may ask you to perform a memory charm after this conversation,” she says in a cute pouting way that earns her another swipe of his tongue. “Yes, it gets me off. But, uh, I usually rub myself, too. It’s not just the toy. It feels okay, but you’re right. Your cock is fleshy and a little more flexible so of course there is a difference. It isn’t quite as stimulating as my fingers, I guess, but it fills me more like you do and that feels nice when you’re not here.”

“You have to use it a lot, don’t you?” he asks quietly as he watches her face.

“More so now than before,” she admits without looking away. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he nuzzles her tummy, leaving behind pink skin from his scruffy jaw, and kisses her bellybutton.

“There are more important things to a relationship than just sex,” Hermione whispers. “I meant what I said, Ron. I’m so very proud of you for working so hard and doing so well. It’s only three more years.”

“But we fight so much more now, and it’s been weeks since I’ve done anything like this with you. You deserve more than a few sleepy shags when we’re both barely awake.”

“I have more than that, silly,” she corrects him. “I have you.”

Ron moves quickly. With a lunge forward, he kisses her thoroughly, telling her everything he can’t really put into words. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against hers. “ _Finite incantatem_ ,” he whispers to release her arms. 

“Why’d you do that?” she asks softly as her fingers brush across his freckled back.

“Wasn’t gonna force you to do something you don’t wanna do,” he replies before he kisses her again. 

“Sit at the end of the bed,” she tells him when his lips leave hers. 

Ron gives her a curious look but obeys. He sits at the end of the bed and she shifts, spreading her legs so they’re on either side of him. “Hermione, you don’t-”

“I know.” She smiles then and touches her breast. “I want to show you.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“And you’re a liar,” she teases as her fingers slowly dip into the bottle and she smears the warming lotion on the underside of her breast. “I like this, Ron. It feels like you’re licking me, like your mouth is on my breast.”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t know what to say and keeps looking from her face to her hands, not sure where to focus. He moves his hand to grip his cock and begins to stroke it slowly. 

“Yeah,” she moans as her fingers move lower. 

His gaze follows her hands and he whimpers when they tangle in the coarse brown curls between her legs. She bends her legs and is again in the position in which he first found her. “You’re so wet, baby,” he tells her as he stares at the glistening pink flesh. He takes a chance that she’s as aroused as he is and asks, “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” she whispers. “It’s always you, Ron. It has been since I was sixteen.”

He looks at her then and finds her gaze on his face. He tightens his hold on his cock because he has the insane urge to come right then and there just from the look of love he sees. “Sorry it took me so long,” he tells her softly, smiling wryly at the knowledge he was nineteen before he finally told her how he’d felt for nearly as long as he could remember. 

“It was worth the wait.” Hermione holds his gaze for a moment before she glances down at his hand and licks her lips.

Ron groans before he looks back at her hands. She’s got two fingers tracing the lips of her cunt. He’s not sure why because it seems a bit unnecessary. Then they move to trace the inner lips, spreading them open a bit more with each stroke. “Do you like that? Teasing yourself that way?”

“Uh, well, it’s rather nice,” she admits before groaning. “God, Ron, why must you ask so many questions?”

“Gaining knowledge,” he tells her with a crooked smile. She moans and he watches her slide a finger inside. “This is so fucking hot, baby. Knowing you’re doing this for me, showing me how you like to be touched. Do you see what you do to me? See how hard I am?”

“Yes,” she hisses as a second finger joins the first. She’s pushing them in and out and her thumb is now rubbing circles on her clit. The fingers holding her cunt open leave it to reach up and squeeze her breast as her hips begin to make small circular motions. 

“Let me try,” he demands huskily. He pulls her hand away and lets go of his erection so he can touch her. Two fingers enter her and she gasps; his fingers are longer and wider than hers. He can feel her muscles tighten around him and he bites his lip to keep from moaning. He looks down and watches his fingers sliding in and out of her. He crooks them like hers had been and angles his wrist so he’s able to reach deeper, stroke faster. 

“Ron,” she whines in the breathless and gasping tone he knows all too well. 

Before she can come, he pulls his hand back and picks up the vibrationer. No, wait, she said it was a _vibrator_. He presses the curved tip of the toy right against her wet lips and teases her by tracing them with the toy. He watches her face and studies her as he begins to push it inside her. “Like this, baby?” he asks as he begins to move the toy in and out, pushing it deeper each time. It’s still warm and begins to move faster as the charm takes over. 

“You. Want you,” she moans as he releases the toy and watches it fuck her as she‘s trained it to do. His thumb rubs her clit, and soon she’s shuddering and trembling, so close, right on the edge. 

He considers taking her arse while the toy fucks her but she’s not prepared and he won’t last long enough to make it good for her. He pulls the toy out and thrusts into her immediately, sinking balls deep inside her. His palms are on either side of her as he begins to fuck her hard. Deep, even strokes, her cunt is warm and wet, and she’s scratching his back as she meets his thrusts with a ferocity that they’ve lacked the past few months. He kisses her, tenderness amidst their passionate union, and he feels her coming even before she moans into his mouth. 

He drops to his elbows and her legs wrap around his waist. Her cunt is convulsing as her orgasm hits, and he can’t hold off much longer. Half a dozen. That’s all it takes before he’s grunting against her neck and spilling inside her. Her cheeks are pink from his unshaven jaw and her lips are swollen from his kisses. She’s never been more beautiful. His chest is sticky from the lotion, just a little warm, and he can feel her squeezing every drop of release from him before he’s finally spent. 

Afterwards, he lies on his back and holds her as close to him as he can. Her breath is warm on his sweaty chest and her hair makes his nose itch. They’re sticky and it feels rather gross but he doesn’t want to move long enough to clean them up yet. She taps the end of the toy and it finally stops buzzing before she tosses it to the other side of the bed. Her arm moves around his waist and she holds him as he holds her. Legs, arms, bodies, a tangled mess of limbs until he’s not quite sure where he stops and she begins. 

Ron doesn’t make false promises of being home more often. He’s an apprentice and training. If anything, he may be away more once he’s in final rotations. He doesn’t tell her he’ll pick up his clothes or remember to make the bed every day. He’s messy and a bit of a slob. He doesn’t tell her that they’ll never fight or he’ll try to stop being so cranky after long shifts. Their relationship is passionate, they’re both stubborn and opinionated, and fighting is part of life. He does pull her closer and think about how lucky he is to be hers. And he whispers, “I love you, Hermione. I‘m yours,” and knows that no truer words have ever been spoken.


End file.
